29 April 2007
3. In today’s liturgy, the Church recalls Saint Catherine of Siena. Her personality defies any simple categorization. She was humble and brave; a mystic, yet attentive and involved in the most difficult social issues of her time. [She left a memorable description of her accompanying Nicolò di Toldo to the gallows in one of her letters - Letter 31]. Saint Catherine was a peace ambassador between Italian cities, and between the Florentine Republic and the Pope. She was a courageous and tireless champion of the Pope’s return to Rome from Avignon’s Captivity, first with Urban the Fifth, with whom she partially succeeded, and then with Gregory the Eleventh, whose definitive return to Rome was greeted as her victory. Catherine of Siena was illiterate, yet she authored great works in mystical theology which also remain of recognized value in Italian literature. I think that in order to take a glimpse into her soul, nothing is better than reading her Prayers with their continuous flashes of insight and wisdom. I chose, almost by chance, a passage from one of her prayers (Prayer XXII) where her mystical surge and theological-anthropological vision come together spontaneously:
“In your nature, Eternal Divinity, I will know my nature. And what is my nature, precious love? It is the flame, because you are none other than the flame of love, and of this nature you gave part of to man, since from the blaze of your love you created him. And thus, out of love you made all other creatures. Oh ungrateful man, what kind of nature has your God given you? His own nature. And are you not ashamed to lose such a noble standing with the guilt of mortal sin?”
It is with this interior flame, which consumed her by the age of only thirty-three, that we can appreciate the secret of her extraordinary social irradiation. In today’s Gospel we hear about the lamps of the virgins who were friends of the bridegroom. On that, I would like to quote another passage of Catherine, a wise virgin, on how she understood her lamp:
“The heart must be like a lamp, which is narrow below and wide at the top. Its desires and affections are to be narrow to worldly things, but wide above: that is, to open the heart and to expand it with its love for Christ crucified, loving him and revering him with true and holy care. And then, you will fill this lamp from the pierced side of Christ crucified. His side shows you the secret of his heart.” (Letter XXXII)
From the Apostles to all the Saints of our modern times, the high and simple secret of their remarkable social impact has its origin from the pierced side of Christ crucified. It gives a sign that cannot be lost – the blood and water that flowed out (John 19, 35-36). “His side shows you the secret of his heart.”
4. This is also true with Francis – “the poor little man” - the Poverello of Assisi. There is probably no more famous a saint than Francis of Assisi. I believe there are three aspects which draw people so closely to him. The first was his choice of poverty – a choice to be on the side of the poor, that is, on the side of man in his authenticity – divested of any false appearances. Second, his pure glance on the natural world and its incomparable beauty, so near to a timeless romantic sentiment as well as to the serious ecological concerns of today. And not least, his calm and pacifying humility, that found expression in the famous prayer - which is not of Francis, but well reflects his spirit-: “Lord, make me an instrument of your peace”.
All this is true, but if taken out of its original spiritual context, it risks diluting the essence of his genuine spirituality, which derives from profound roots. His primary spiritual source, it seems to me, can be summed up with his own words: “My God and my All” (Deus meus et Omnia), in comparison to which there are neither riches nor powers nor worldly honours which could matter more. It is, at the same time, his “Following Christ” (sequela Christi): his following Christ stripped of all, which includes not only divesting oneself of clothes and shoes, but divesting one’s self, as the Lord said: “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself” (Mt 16,24). It is, as Francis said in his Testament, to “live according to the pattern of the Holy Gospel” (vivere secundum formam sancti Evangelii). The Cross is the place where Francis encounters the Lord who brings unity in his life. How Francis identified himself so wholly with Christ Crucified was manifested with the stigmata he received on Mount La Verna on September 14th, feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross. Dante defined the stigmata as the “last seal” Francis received from Christ (Paradise, 11, 107). The first “seal”, according to Dante, had been the approval of his First Rule by Pope Innocent III (Paradise, 11, 93).